


This One Is Gonna Hurt

by deandratb



Category: One Day at a Time (TV 2017)
Genre: Carmen - Freeform, F/M, Gen, alex alvarez - Freeform, mentions but doesn't feature
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-23
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-22 23:37:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13775022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Schneider follows Victor out of Elena's quinces; he does not remain calm.He loves Elena, and Penelope, and Alex, and Lydia, and they’re all about to be hurt again, by this idiot who can’t see how lucky he is. So Schneider doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t keep talking. He just swings.





	This One Is Gonna Hurt

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous request: **Victor left the quinces with a punch to the jaw**

“Victor!”

The sinking feeling in Schneider’s gut tells him it’s too late, but he follows anyway. 

“Victor, where are you going?” 

Schneider saw all the hope Elena finally placed in her father. How happy she was that he came. Trust is so easily broken at her age, much harder to repair.

He has to try.

“Hey, stop.” Schneider grabs Victor by the shoulder when he catches up. They’re out of earshot of the _quinces_ crowd now, a small mercy to help them avoid making this a very public scene. “What are you doing?”

“Get off me!” The way Victor pushes back reminds Schneider that this isn’t some average guy he’s confronting. Penelope’s ex is tougher and more experienced than almost anybody he knows...other than Pen herself, who Schneider is certain could take him down without breaking a sweat.

“Easy, man. Where are you going?”

“Away. Go back inside, Schneider.”

Victor is clearly upset, and Schneider thinks he would probably feel bad for the dude, if he wasn’t so busy picturing the look on Elena’s face when she realizes her dad walked out on her. Again.

“Don’t do this. Come on. Elena is waiting in there. She needs you.”

“This is none of your business. How I deal with **my** daughter--what Elena needs is help. Not this...spectacle. Dressing like a man? In front of everybody?” 

Victor shakes his head and tries to keep walking, surprised when Schneider puts himself right in his path. “Get out of my way.”

He should be scared, knowing who Victor is, remembering the little hints Penelope has dropped over the last year without noticing that Schneider caught them. Victor is dangerous on a lot of levels. Volatile. Even deadly.

But Schneider’s usually healthy sense of self-preservation is completely drowned out by the faint sounds of salsa music drifting down the hall, reminding him what’s at stake.

Victor Alvarez is walking out on his family. On his kid.

And Schneider knows what it feels like on the other side of that. He wants more than anything to spare Elena the knowledge that Victor doesn’t love her the way she deserves.

He can’t make her father turn around and go back inside. 

He can’t make his own father love him. 

He loves Elena, and Penelope, and Alex, and Lydia, and they’re all about to be hurt again, by this idiot who can’t see how lucky he is.

So Schneider doesn’t back down, and he doesn’t keep talking.

He just swings. 

It would’ve been great for his ego if Victor went down hard on the hall carpet, bleeding and swearing and ultimately apologetic.

Obviously, that’s not how it goes. Considering the fact that Schneider’s never punched anybody before, he’s lucky his fist even lands.

It does though, it lands solid and quick, and Victor stumbles back a little, as much from the shock of getting punched by a Canadian hipster as from the physical impact.

He straightens, checks his face to confirm that the punch didn’t break skin, and starts to advance on Schneider. 

It’d be so easy, and so satisfying, to make his former landlord bleed all over that expensive blue suit. Knock out a couple of his teeth, mess up Schneider’s pretty face. 

It would feel damn good to direct this frustration and anger--and guilt, and fear--at the man who’s gotten way too close to his family.

But it’s that thought that stops him. As strongly as Victor's itching for a fight, Schneider looks almost as ready. Almost as disappointed--and even more pissed.

Though he hasn’t been around lately, Victor hears enough. He files it all under ‘reasons to make sure his son’s new surrogate father is properly scared of him’ and tells himself that he’ll always have the military advantage.

Now, though, Schneider--goofy, harmless Schneider--is standing braced and ready, flexing the hand that he bruised on Victor’s jaw while he waits for a response.

Schneider’s no longer scared of him.

So Victor stops.

At this point he’s not a badass, he’s not defending his family. The man defending his family is the one who just hit **him.**

He has no place here. 

Victor passes by Schneider without another word, letting the back alley door click shut behind him.

Slowly, blinking his confusion in Morse code, Schneider relaxes his fists and realizes his hand is swelling.

When he returns, he conveys the bad news to Penelope apologetically, from across the room. All it takes is a look, between them. Seeing her tears start to fall hurts more than his throbbing hand. 

It’s a relief to shake off the inner voice that reminds him he’s not a part of this, and join them all on the dance floor. When it makes Elena smile, Schneider finally feels like maybe he’s done something right.

He would never have said a word about what passed between him and her father in the hall. It would only hurt her more, not to mention it wasn’t exactly his finest moment.

Penelope notices anyway--when Elena is off the dance floor catching up with Carmen and she takes the chance to thank him for his help. 

“It’s really great, what you did for Elena today,” she says with a quiet smile. “She’s missed Carmen so much.” 

Penelope looks tired, the adrenaline slowly winding down along with the party...but still gorgeous. Happy, and so proud. 

A slow song kicks in, the Spanish more advanced than the beginner lessons that Schneider has yet to tell Penelope about. Even though he can’t understand the words, it’s pretty. He likes the feel of it.

He’s shocked when Penelope smiles again, and tugs on his hand. “Dance?”

“Sure.”

She’s compact where his limbs have always been too long for him, but somehow they fit okay. It’s when he takes her other hand in his, that she sees it.

“Your knuckles.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Schneider moves his hand to her back, trying to dodge her concern. He was hoping she wouldn’t think too much about that, how even though he tried, he couldn’t convince Victor to stay. 

He was hoping Penelope would never have to know that his self-control was no match for the love he has for that brave girl dancing with her friends in her shiny suit, happier than he’s ever seen her--or for her mother, who looks at his broken skin and sheepish expression and does the math.

“Schneider.” She shakes her head, feigning disappointment in his lapse in judgment. But he catches the hint of a smile Penelope hides as she rests her face against his chest, and he knows she understands.

“He could kill you in seventeen different ways, you know.”

“He’d have to catch me first. And I’m quick like a bobcat.”

"What I was going to tell you,” Penelope says into the lapel of his suit,” is that I really am grateful, for your chauffeur services, and Elena’s surprise.”

She pats the hand that’s holding hers, the unbruised one, and continues without looking up. “And, I guess, for one more thing.”

“You’re welcome. I was happy to do it. All of it.”

Maybe it’s awful, that he doesn’t feel sorry about hitting Victor. Maybe he’s a terrible person.

But when the song ends, and Penelope holds on for a few extra seconds, looking up and beaming at him with tears in her eyes...when Elena hugs him goodnight without a single snarky comment, and Lydia clucks her tongue knowingly and murmurs, “Don’t forget to ice that...”

Schneider isn’t sorry at all. 

They’re his family, his **real** family, and he’ll never understand how anyone could walk away from them. 

He wishes he’d aimed for Victor’s nose.

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from "Hurt" by Gabrielle Aplin.


End file.
